Help Me Piece It All Together
by Miss Mango
Summary: It's Christmas time and everything is going wrong. Can love set it right?
1. Chapter 1

**Help Me Piece It All Together**

By: Miss Mango

" _We keep on running, running through a red light_

 _Like we're trying to burn the night away,_

 _Away oh away_

 _Why are we always chasing after something_

 _Like we trying to throw our lives away,_

 _Away oh away_

 _This is my favorite part so_

 _Help me piece it all together, darling_

 _Before it falls apart_

 _Help me piece it all together"_

-from "Quarter Past Midnight" by **Bastille**

* * *

 **A/N:** The incredibly excellent song above (from one of my new favorite bands!) got me thinking about Wheeler's fragility as a person, as well as his endless quest to win over Linka (music and W/L always mix in my mind, LOL!). And so I wanted to capture all that in a story for you. Hope you like, like, like it and let me know about it! Much love… on with the show! MM

Chapter 1

Wheeler downed the shot in one quick gulp, the liquor burning its way down his throat. The small glass remained empty in his large palm. He wasn't surprised he'd chosen _vodka_. He was feeling damn lonely. And sorry for himself.

Spending Christmas day in Queens in a bar called _The Dive_ wasn't exactly his idea of _traditional_ or _jolly_ or _family_ , all things Christmas should evoke. The bar was surprisingly full of other lonely losers such as himself. Some of them were even bobbing their heads up and down to the alternative tunes vibrating off the invisible speakers. No Christmas jingles here.

To keep in line with his tradition of consistently wrecking his son's holidays, Wheeler's dad had been rushed to hospital two days prior. A grand Christmas present, like only he could deliver. It seemed like his liver had finally caved after years of poisoning it with alcohol.

His mother had called Wheeler in tears, and of course the redhead had rushed to New York. What else could he do? Now his dad was on a waiting list for a liver transplant, a new healthy one he would destroy in record time, no doubt. Wheeler wasn't all that shocked that he felt next to no pity for his father. He realized, not without some dread, that he'd even feel okay with his possible death. There wouldn't be much to miss about his dad. He'd been a terrible husband and a neglectful parent. No smiles or hugs or even a word of encouragement had ever been spent on his son. Wheeler hadn't found it easy to fake distress in the hospital, as opposed to his mom's very real tears. So even if the dimly lit bar reeked of depression, it was a step up from the hospital, hands down. And the alcohol was languidly numbing his unpleasant state of mind, drowning all bad memories.

The attractive American was about to order another round when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He groaned aloud, not sure he was in the right mood to answer. He was considering his options when a tiny voice inside his brain reminded him that it could be his mom needing something, and so he dug out his phone with a sigh. Damn his sense of responsibility.

The name on the display acted as a cold shower on his cloudy senses. It was _Linka_. No big deal, just the girl he'd fallen for since day one with the Planeteers. _Linka_ , who could aggravate him and arouse him like no other, all in the same breath. _Linka_ , who he knew was too good for his sorry ass. _Linka_ , who would beat some serious sense into him had she been sitting beside him now. Not that he would ever let her see him remotely drunk. It would be awkward and embarrassing, his dad had forever ruined social drinking for him. Wheeler figured it wasn't real unless others were attesting to it; he'd _die_ before letting anyone compare him to his dead-beat dad.

Wheeler shook his head to clear his thoughts and ran a hand through his messy hair, unconsciously wanting to look his best even though the Russian girl could not see him. He cleared his throat, flustered, and answered rapidly. His heartbeat was loud in his ears like a revved up Porsche.

"Babe?"

"Merry Christmas, Yankee."

Linka's familiar accented voice was warm and beautiful. It felt so much like home Wheeler suppressed a sob. _Get a grip!_ , he chanted like a mantra in his head. It _had_ to be the alcohol, reasoned the American, albeit not too convinced.

"Uhm, Merry Christmas to you, too, darlin'."

He stood up on an impulse, holding his hand over his other ear to block out the background music, and made hastily for the exit door. He did not feel the place was adequate enough for someone as stellar as Linka, as if the ambiance could taint her over the telephone by mere association. Surely, she would disapprove of such a dodgy place.

"How is your father, Wheeler?"

Her query came as soon as the cold New York air hit his face. In his haste, Wheeler had left his jacket on the back of his stool, and he felt underdressed for the weather in his T-shirt. But the chilly air felt good, it helped sharpen his hazy senses. Wheeler filled his lungs with the below-freezing temperature.

"Not that great," he limited himself to answering.

A brief pause followed before Linka softly remarked, "I am sorry."

Irrationally, Wheeler did not want her to feel that way, to waste emotions on his old man like that. His dad did not deserve Linka's heartfelt declaration.

"Nothin' we ain't used to," he shrugged, trying to dispel the somber mood. "The important thing is that you guys are having a better Christmas, at least"?

"I wish that were true," replied Linka with a sigh, and immediately Wheeler heard the sadness her tone carried.

"What d'ya mean?"

"It seemed like both of us were destined to spend Christmas in a hospital. I am in Moscow. My Grandmother fell and broke her hip, as well as three ribs. I am expecting Mishka to get here later on today."

"Babe, you're kiddin'!"

Wheeler had met Linka's Grandmother – a very sweet old lady with a lively twinkle in her eyes – and could not be more shocked over the news. The woman had manifested an infectious energy and that was how he remembered her.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Linka. That's horrible news!"

The American knew of the intense loving bond that tied Linka to her Grandmother, and he naively wished he could shield her from the current situation.

"It was not easy seeing her confined to that hospital bed. I cannot remember a time when she was ever inactive at home."

Her tone of voice pierced his heart and Wheeler suddenly wished they were not millions of miles apart. A wave of tenderness swept over him and he froze, unaccustomed to feeling so much. He wasn't a very emotional guy, rather, he did not like to show emotion in public. He hadn't cried since he'd been nine years old and his dad had smashed his toy train against the wall in a furious drunken rage.

Linka managed to awaken different sensations inside him, almost blotting out the negative emotions he had grown accustomed to, and that was why she filled his brain for the better part of the day. She was different, not just beautiful like so many other girls he could get next to if he so desired. There was incredible depth to her; she did not let herself get too distracted by his good looks and boyish charm, and that intrigued him. There were times when she effortlessly uncovered his worth when even he had trouble seeing it. She didn't take bullshit from anybody, and she in turn was reliable and honest in all she did. Not to mention she looked better than a Playboy bunny in a bikini. So, really, the reasons to fawn over her abounded.

"I wish I could do something, babe," he truthfully revealed. Then, "but I know how strong your Grandmushka is. She'll pull through, you'll see."

" _Spasiba_ , Yankee," Linka replied just as sincerely, before there was some background commotion on her end.

"The doctor has just arrived. I must go now. I will talk to you later, _da_?"

"You bet. Keep me updated."

They said goodbye, and it was only then that Wheeler noticed it had suddenly begun to snow. Large, white flakes that settled on his skin, his hair, timidly making contact. _Merry freakin' Christmas_ , the redhead thought, gloomily.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Wheeler wasn't sure what invisible force had caused him to step inside the hospital. Hell, he wasn't even sure what had propelled him to step on that plane in the first place. He'd interpreted the last-minute deal on the plane tickets as a sign that he was doing the right thing. And so the nine-hour long flight from New York's _JFK_ airport to Moscow's _Sheremetyevo_ had felt like a blink to the besotted American. Something bigger than himself was driving him to Linka, to her nearness, and even though he tried convincing himself it was a gesture any friend would perform for another friend, he knew it was no use fooling himself.

It did not take him too much effort to find the hospital wing where Linka's Grandmother had been placed. Wheeler's Russian wasn't any good, but his charming smile won over any nurse he met along the way, and they were more than happy to switch to passable English for him and help him along. They smiled at the dashing redheaded American because he emanated something like young hope, and no one dares oppose that noble sentiment.

Only, Wheeler's world collapsed loudly around him when finally he stepped into the waiting room and saw Linka sitting there. Her face was worried, her expression distracted. He could not help but notice how different she looked when not in her Planeteers attire. Like a sophisticated European model. Her hair fell like a soft curtain over her shoulders, catching the light like golden silk. She was wearing a white sweater over jeans and low-heeled boots, while a tan-colored tweet coat had been swung carelessly over a nearby plastic chair.

All this wasn't what caused Wheeler's heart to sink, however. It was the fact that she wasn't alone. Next to her was a guy approximately their age, and he was holding her hand in his.

Wheeler felt very silly, like a Martian, all of a sudden. Out of place and emotionally naked. There he was, holding a plant with little yellow flowers he'd picked up at a floral shop along the way for Linka's Grandmother. And there was Linka, receiving comfort from someone other than _him_. This time, the American was certain that the boy wasn't just some relative of hers. He'd made the mistake of believing her brother, Mishka, had been a love interest of hers when he'd first met the family. Wheeler had a sinking feeling there wasn't anything nearly as hilarious going on at the moment.

When Linka noticed the Fire Planeteer hovering nearby, she surprised him by immediately jumping up from her chair to greet him. Wheeler wasn't expecting such a display of enthusiasm as she nearly collided into him to embrace him. He stood stunned for a moment, drinking in the warmth of her body pressing up into his.

"Jacob, you came," Linka whispered close to his ear, her tone filled with gratitude, and Wheeler knew he was beaming by this point. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her male companion a smug smile, as if to challenge him.

The brown-haired boy was eying the scene suspiciously, without uttering a word, but nothing else mattered to Wheeler at this point, except Linka's reaction to his presence. It wasn't common for her to show such affection, but he was ever so thankful that she cared about him at least little bit.

"Of course, babe," he quipped when she pulled away slightly to examine his eyes. His tone softened when he continued, "I heard how upset you were over the phone and I couldn't stay away."

A slight coughing sound brought the pair back to the present and Linka disentangled herself from her American friend. She turned and smiled at the other boy, almost apologetically.

"Ah, this is… my friend, Alexei," the blonde nodded to Wheeler, who made no move to shake Alexei's hand. "His father was the one who found Grandmushka. They are neighbors of ours."

"So you brought her here together?"

" _Nyet_ ," Linka shook her head patiently, as if she were explaining to a child.

"Alexei moved to Moscow when he became a student at the University here. He was just checking up on us once his father told him what had happened."

"Thoughtful," Wheeler remarked, but no one caught the sarcasm in his voice. Or maybe they were just ignoring it. Now that he examined the Russian boy closer, he had to admit he was a handsome chap, and this irritated him even more. He was tall, pretty-faced and well-dressed. _Not_ a good thing if he was going to hang around Linka.

As if on cue, the blonde girl turned to Alexei with a smile to sing his praise. "Alexei and I grew up together for a while. Now he is top of his class, ready to graduate with honors in space engineering."

Wheeler nodded wordlessly, feeling more and more self-conscious. His ego was taking a brutal beating. It was now Alexei's turn to beam at him.

"Linka, you will make me blush if you keep that up," came the reply in perfectly-structured English. His voice seemed to Wheeler cuttingly soft.

"We are all so proud of you," Linka smiled delicately at him while Wheeler silently fumed.

"So, _babe_ , can I go in to see your Grandmushka?" Wheeler addressed her singularly as if to dispel the earlier conversation and Alexei's unwelcomed presence. He really hadn't come all the way to Russia to feel as inadequate as he did at the moment. He knew it hadn't been Linka's intent by any means. It wasn't like he was unintelligent or anything, he had just never really liked school or studying, didn't have the right attention span for it. Plus, his family wouldn't have had the money to send him off to college, anyway, so it had been a lost cause from the start. Wheeler liked physical labor better, anyhow, hands-on type work. They couldn't all be future astronauts like Alexei here, could they?

"Visiting hours are over, I believe," Alexei piped up evilly and Wheeler all but fulminated him with a glare. He could have sworn a mocking smile had animated the Russian's amused features.

"Maybe I can try sneaking you in, Yankee," Linka readily offered, and he newly fell in love with her right then for trying to save the situation. She took his hand and tugged him along. "After all, you have come all this way to see her."

 _Yes!_ Wheeler followed Linka without any reserve down the narrow hallway, not giving the stunned boy left behind a second thought. This was better than getting picked first by the captain at team sports. No pity party for him today! He'd encountered too few victories in his life so far, and he silently willed for things to keep going right.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Grandmother was weak but readily smiled once she saw the visitor Linka had brought along. The Yankee wasted no time delicately settling himself on Grandmother's bed and taking her hand. Linka's heart swelled with pride when her Grandmushka squeezed back. The blonde girl had always suspected the dear woman liked the cheerful American. Linka had not missed the older woman's subtle innuendoes that she should take more interest in the smitten American boy, not without coloring considerably. Of course she knew Wheeler was attracted to her, liked her better than the rest of their teammates. She just wasn't sure what to _do_ about it. Wheeler was an incurable playboy, the ready flirt in any situation, and she wasn't sure his intentions with her went beyond the physical. Although, the way he looked at her lately often told a different story, but then this frightened her. She dared not admit that she found him downright lovable on many occasions. Wheeler was ruggedly handsome and charming, but Linka never quite knew whether to take him too seriously.

Her Grandmother broke through her reveries when she openly admired the plant Wheeler was placing by the bedside.

"This room needed some sunshine," Grandmother remarked in her limited English. Linka blushed when she realized the old lady wasn't simply referring to the plant's cheerful yellow flowers. Her Grandmushka gave her granddaughter a meaningful glance before throwing herself into a light conversation with Wheeler.

Linka mulled over her Grandmother's words as she silently watched them interact. Naturally, Grandmushka had been totally spot on, for the Yankee embodied that, _sunshine_. He could put a smile on anyone's face with his endless energy and quick wit, and she herself admired his spontaneity more often than she let show. It was refreshing, something which to count on when times were uncertain and stormy. There was not a single person Wheeler could not befriend, and people just opened up to him effortlessly.

It was too bad he often closed off his own private feelings to others. Linka had quickly learned to pick up his reticent moods. It was best to let him be when he chose to clam up, especially when his family was somehow involved. He must have had quite the traumatic upbringing if it still interfered with his sunny disposition to this day, reflected the blonde. He'd been very stormy since his mother had beckoned him home for Christmas, but Linka could see that he was over it now; the physical distance seemed to act as a healing balm on his scars from the past.

The pair stayed with Grandmother until a nurse asked them to leave, and Wheeler softly kissed the old woman on the cheek, promising a visit the following day. The old woman smiled gratefully.

Fluorescent lights bathed the Fire and Wind Planeteers once they stepped out into the hallway. The midday hustle and bustle of the hospital went on around them like a coordinated ballet, undisturbed.

"She enjoyed seeing you," Linka revealed to her companion, who in turn rewarded her with a sincere smile. "Grandmushka likes your company."

"I'm glad."

Linka walked on, lost in her thoughts, before noticing that Wheeler had fallen a few steps behind. She turned to him then, before the American suddenly took her arm.

"So what's the story with you and space-boy?"

The way he asked her point-in-blank was typical Wheeler, so direct Linka froze for a moment. His sky eyes were examining her without their usual amused sparkle, and she sighed, shaking her arm free from his light grasp. His jealousy could get too theatrical for her taste.

"Wheeler, I am not in the mood to do this with you right now."

"Do what?" the American echoed, taking a step closer to her.

Linka crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "I am not partaking in your silly little games! Alexei and I are just friends."

Of course Wheeler had to go and push it because, apparently, her remark had not been reassuring enough for him. Not that she needed to prove anything to him, either, damn it! It's not like the Yankee was her boyfriend or anything! Sure, they had these intense moments that alternated between pure attraction and tenderness, but Linka wasn't going to give in to him easily. She was stubborn and guarded, and Wheeler seriously threatened all that. She was not nearly ready enough for him to shake up the foundations of her existence! The blonde girl loved control too much to allow that!

"Then why was he holding your hand like that? Linka, I'm not a idiot."

"Then stop acting like one!" the Russian exploded, throwing her hands up to the sky.

"Just tell me, have you ever kissed him?" Wheeler insisted casually, as if they were chatting up football scores.

"I am _not_ having this conversation with you, Yankee. Here, of all places!" Linka's tone was impatient as she moved to avoid two nurses wheeling large trays around.

 _The nerve of the American!_ , she silently fumed, before he could stun her further. Wheeler took her arm and led her inside an adjacent room. The beds were unmade and it looked out of use. The blinds were only half opened and weak light filtered through.

"Let's talk in here, then," offered Wheeler, pinning her delicately against the wall before nearing her.

Linka blinked up her big, green eyes at him, unsure which words to formulate now that he had invaded her personal space so. Wheeler had the ability to silence her like that; no one else held a similar power over her. She sighed and shook her head a little, willing her heart to stop racing.

"I can't stand the thought of him having some sort of claim over you," Wheeler stated, his tone clear and final, as his eyes dwelled into hers.

Linka felt his fingertips tracing her jaw, before the light touch travelled to her cheek. An involuntary warm shiver ran down her spine, her senses jolted out of their sleepy state.

"I do not think of him that way," Linka sighed, breaking eye contact with Wheeler. "Our families used to think we would one day end up together, and Alexei himself fell into that mentality for a while. We have many things in common, maybe _too much_ , and I could never see him as anything more than… _extended_ family, I guess. And _da_ , he has kissed me before, but it was never anything that could ever lead to more."

"Meaning it wasn't anything like when _you and I_ kissed?"

"You can wipe that smug smile off you face, Yankee! May I remind you that you cannot take those liberties with me as often as you try to?"

"Hey, it was _you_ who kissed _me_ the last time we were in Russia, babe, _remember_?"

Linka colored considerably and shook her head to contradict his words.

"To quote one of your favorite American sayings, _'no way'_!"

" _Yeah way_ , you totally did!"

Exasperated, Linka placed both hands on his chest and slightly pushed him away. The solid muscle underneath didn't budge one inch and she sighed. The blonde knew he was right, since she had been so distraught at the thought of not sharing her days with him any longer, that she had jumped into his arms and given in to the desire of kissing him. It had been the warmest, most spectacular contact she'd ever experienced, and she still carried the memory with her. But there was no need for the American to know that.

" _Bozhe moi_! Are we seriously arguing about who kissed who? That is… ridiculous!"

"You know what? You're totally right, babe. It doesn't matter because what we _do_ agree on is that it was pretty _damn_ awesome."

Linka's heart fluttered at his tone of voice and she blinked at her reflection in his eyes. Her body was running hot and cold, like a confused jet of water, and her attention fell on Wheeler's mouth. They had shared so few kisses that it was a mystery how she had managed to burn to memory the feel of his doting mouth on hers, the sheer blissful nature of it. Wheeler's warmth was unforgettable, all consuming, and it was inevitable that her body wanted as if to weld itself to his. She knew that giving in to it would automatically make its absence painful to bear. And if there was one thing the Russian girl feared, it was being so weak.

"Babe, I'm so tired of trying to stay away from you," Wheeler was saying in a hushed tone of voice, and her senses perked up, her heart dancing tribally in her ribcage. The American had eliminated the distance between them, and she could feel his sharp intake of breath against her cheek. Linka felt all of a sudden feverish, as if air was scarce, when his mouth stopped inches from hers.

"You're what I want," came his revelation as his hand cupped her face.

Linka was frozen, trapped within her strong emotions, yet there was nowhere else she would rather be at the moment.

Wheeler's mouth came crashing down on hers, like thunder in an open field, and all she could do was hold on to him and return his passion. Given, he didn't have to wait too long for the beautiful Russian to cooperate, because soon she was kissing him back with the same intensity, the same need that had been evident in his voice. Linka's body warmed, tensed, then relaxed, and the voice of reason was replaced with that of passion. It was much better company, Linka truthfully admitted to herself.

When the redhead had finished his assault on her tender lips, Linka leaned into him spent, high, euphoric, as if he'd let her try some party drug that was new on the market.

"Why do you have to be so _good_ at that?" Linka complained out loud, her tone a mixture of dreamy and wide awake, before she realized she had spoken aloud.

Wheeler let out a laugh while she turned crimson. _Stupid, unfocused brain!_ , the Russian silently scolded herself. The Yankee would never let her live that one down! She had a feeling he would be throwing that phrase back at her for some time to come, gloating over it as was typical of him.

Instead, Wheeler surprised her by very gently holding her face in his hands and giving her a slow kiss that threatened to do some real damage to her molten insides. It was not without effort that Linka held in a string of approving moans.

"You know, if you weren't so intent on proving to me that we naturally repel each other, we'd be doing this all day instead."

The seductive tone of his voice caused Linka to blink blankly up at him as if hypnotized; then, his words fully registered and she let out a chuckle.

"Maybe mine is just a tactic to keep your interest up," Linka bravely put out there, before realizing she was openly flirting back.

"Darlin', you really don't have to go out of your way to get my attention," smirked Wheeler, tucking a long lock of her hair behind her ear. "When you walk into any room, I gravitate towards you. And when you're not there, I miss you like a complete idiot. So, you see, I'm kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place."

Linka lightly slapped his arm at his comedy attempt, and finally made a step to move out of his arms. She didn't like where the conversation was going. Mainly because the American's tone carried infinite affection and blunt sincerity. Her hands were already clammy at the prospect of him delving deeper into his feelings for her. An inexplicable part of her wanted to hear a definite declaration, however, and she wasn't sure what frightened her more at this point.

Wheeler didn't budge. Instead, he gently pushed her back against the wall, not so ready to let her go.

"One day, you're totally gonna admit that you've got it bad for me, babe."

The Russian girl nearly choked on the air in her lungs and covered it up with a laugh, instead.

"Since we are in a hospital, maybe it is a good idea to get your head checked, _nyet_ , Wheeler?"

"My head's just fine," he shrugged in that easy way he had to brush off the world. He took one of her hands and placed it on his chest, all the while holding her glance.

"My heart, on the other hand…"

" _Yankee_ …"

He laughed at her serious expression as if to dissipate her fears, before embracing her tightly.

Linka sighed a little, and as a compromise, returned his affectionate hug. She was not sure what else to do because she feared she would give herself away being so close to him. Her façade was starting to be exhausting, for being so physically close to Wheeler was something that drew her in. It was like leaning into an open-mouthed volcano to have a peek at its devastating lava. Sooner or later, you were bound to fall in.

She sighed again, taking in his clean scent mixed with that undertone of fire/woodsy that clearly defined him. The Russian girl firmly believed in Wheeler's goodness of heart, and more and more was witness to his vulnerability. Sure, he had his fair share of negative traits, things that could really irritate her in the moment, but she admired that he could be softer than his exterior macho shell. The American did not like to show it or admit it, but different things moved him, got an emotional reaction out of him.

Wheeler's best characteristic was his warmth, the way it seemed to radiate off him in waves. Guys like Alexei, sure, they had charm and brains, but they were also stoic and calculating, often downright _cold_. But the Yankee, he didn't need to use too many fancy words to make you understand you had an effect on him. His eyes could never hide his emotions very well; Wheeler's warmth acted like a fire in the dead of winter. And Linka was constantly battling whether to run as far as her legs would carry her, or bask in its delicious, seductive glow instead.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Linka's Grandmother was firmly opposed to the notion that the family should miss out on the Christmas festivities because of her unfortunate accident. Thus, she made Linka promise to have a real holiday celebration with what was left of the family. It did not matter that it was a day or two after Christmas; after all, Russians are known to extend the festivities well into the month of January.

So with the help of Mishka's girlfriend, Svetlana, Linka took on the task of preparing the traditional holiday dinner. Wheeler did not expect to feel so touched when the blonde girl invited him to stay. It was more a _demand_ than a simple invite on her part. Linka's smile had been affectionate and her touch on his arm had lingered just enough to fuel the hope inside his heart.

The American was used to dreading the holidays, so the easygoing atmosphere that had been created at Linka's house was a welcome change that helped soothe his anxieties. The quaint little place was decorated with red candles and holly-type plants, and soon the smell of baked goodies and stews bubbling over engulfed the place.

Wheeler was introduced to Svetlana, and as soon as the girl apprehended that he was American, she launched into stories of her latest trip to New York. She was an aspiring model and loved all things American.

"I am trying to convince Mishka to move there," the raven-haired beauty smiled mischievously before taking a seat next to her boyfriend.

"I can already guess Mishka's reaction to that," laughed Wheeler. He and Mishka had had lively arguments about which was the best country in the world and why, each boy being extremely patriotic. He got on well with Linka's brother after getting past the initial phase. Mishka, much like his sister, wasn't big on offering up trust right away, but the American had succeeded in winning him over. It had become easier after finding out they had a common interest, that being sports.

"Mishka is a tough peanut to crack," Linka volunteered merrily, placing on the table bowls and dishes filled with steaming entrées.

"That's ' _nut_ ', babe," Wheeler automatically corrected her, and she offered him an apologetic smile in turn.

"We all know Mishka is a nut!" laughed Svetlana, and said boy went on to tickle her, before she pretended to fight him off. Wheeler watched their antics for a while, only moving his glance away when the couple exchanged some kisses.

Once it was time to concentrate on the meal, Wheeler tried his best to figure out the dishes laid out before him. He wished, not for the first time, to be less ignorant about world culture.

Linka distracted him from his musings as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Do not worry, Yankee, I know you are not very adventurous with your food."

With a wide smile, she went on to place a more familiar dish before him. "So I made you turkey with mashed potatoes. That is okay, _da_?"

Wheeler's throat tightened at her loving gesture. He was not used to people going out of their way to accommodate him. In fact, he'd quickly learned to fend for himself - blend in, disappear - in order to survive. Life hadn't served him up too much kindness so far.

"Babe, you didn't have to go through so much trouble…" he shook his head gently, feeling guilty, before Linka lightly patted his arm reassuringly.

"It was no trouble."

The graceful blonde sat beside him and he waited until she had served herself before he placed one arm around the back of her chair. Wheeler leaned in closer to her so that he could whisper in her ear.

" _Spasiba_ , beautiful."

Linka smiled, pleased at the use of her native language, and turned so that their eyes met. Those deeply intelligent, honest and kind green eyes seemed to dance with the light of the candles.

" _Pazhalooysta_ , Yankee."

It was such a lovely evening that time seemed to race by. Wheeler was incredibly at ease. He took note that he could refill Linka's glass with wine without her usual opposition. Her cheeks were rosy and lovely in the candlelight, and her laughter more genuine than he'd ever hear before. It was plain to see that being back home was a happy event for her. She even held up different things for him to try, feeding him now and then like a little baby. Wheeler happily complied, even though some of the flavors were too strong for his weakly taste buds. Everyone went out of their way to include him by explaining the dishes and traditions behind the holiday. He listened in awe to the fond memories relating to Christmas time they all seemed to share.

At the end of the meal, the redhead politely offered to help out with the dishes and clearing the table, but Linka looked at him horrified.

"Russians _never_ allow guests to do any sort of chore, Yankee. It goes against our rules of hospitality."

"All the more reason to love you, babe," he winked in a conspiring way as a response. He could have sworn Linka blushed at his not-so-teasing tone.

Wheeler took advantage of her momentary relinquish of control by gently taking her hand and leading her in the other room. Mishka and Svetlana were in the kitchen washing up and laughing amongst themselves, so the pair was granted some privacy.

Wheeler pulled Linka down on the couch, beside the prettily decorated Christmas tree. He fished for something in his pocket before throwing a little square box in her direction. Linka caught it before it could hit the floor and looked up at him quizzically.

"Open it," grinned the American. "It's just a little something I wanted you to have."

Linka had a fond smile on her lips as she tore open the shimmering wrapping paper, and Wheeler remained focused on her expression, not wanting to miss anything. If he had to be honest, he was fighting the strong urge to lean in and kiss her. She was gorgeous and so relaxed, her guard lower than he'd ever witnessed before. Since he lived off any tiny crumb of her affection, this was pretty damn awesome to him. But he also didn't want to ruin the magical moment between them, so he stayed put for the time being.

Nestled inside the box was a little silver charm; a delicate bird in flight, wings spread.

"Oh, Wheeler," Linka voiced, her tone soft and filled with awe.

"I thought you could add it to the charm bracelet Gi gave you for your birthday," the American smiled, pointing to her wrist. "You know, to remind you of your father. The story you told us about the mines and the birds… that really stuck with me. How you would sit by the window at exactly the same time every afternoon, scanning the sky for a little white bird that would let you know your dad was safe for another day, that he was coming home to you. I can't think of anything more… _pure_ than that sentiment. It describes you so well, Linka. How loyal you are, hopeful, bright."

A small pause, then, "I guess the story kinda stood out for me because of how _opposite_ it was from mine growing up. I feared my dad coming home; it was the worst part of the day for me. I'm glad I have your story to remind me of how things _should_ be, how they _can_ be."

Linka's eyes were moist by the time Wheeler had finished speaking, and she threw her arms around his neck. Wheeler readily breathed in her warmth, her comfort. It was all-consuming, lulling.

"No one has ever given me a more thoughtful gift before," Linka smiled, wiping clumsily at her eyes to prevent the imminent tears from spilling. She looked down at the boxed charm before meeting his eyes again. Wheeler was transfixed by her.

"It is beautiful, thank you. Will you help me put it on?"

The American grinned in response, and after a few attempts, the charm was securely fastened to the bracelet Linka was wearing.

"I did not even have the time to get you anything," Linka spoke up with a sad sigh, admiring the bracelet.

"What're talkin' about, babe?" Wheeler remarked, moving to lift up her chin so that her eyes could reflect in his.

"You gave me the best Christmas ever! I'll never forget it."

Linka's eyes softened once more and the young pair naturally moved closer to one another. Their lips touched, searching, inquiring, confirming. It was difficult to control the momentum of their combined desire, and Wheeler coaxed Linka into kissing him back with the same reckless abandon. She tasted of cinnamon and wine, and of an essence that was so typically Linka, his head was spinning. Her mouth was lovely and inviting, and he knew it would take more than an entire night to imprint to details all luscious details. If at first their contact was tame – little kisses between them – now it had evolved. They had moved on to more intimate kisses, and the American could simply not get enough. He felt high off her contact.

As if Linka could somehow sense his thoughts, she pulled slightly away from him, catching her breath. Her hands were resting on his chest and her glance gradually moved up to meet his eyes.

"Yankee… _Jacob_ …" the Russian girl started out shakily, but Wheeler silenced her with a swift kiss.

"Don't worry, I'm perfectly aware that your brother is moments away from barging in here. Definitely a scene I don't want him to witness," he chuckled a little under his breath, his thumb caressing her soft cheek.

Linka smiled delicately and shook her head a little. "I am not concerned about that. Well, maybe a little. But what I am trying to say is… I cannot think clearly when you are so close to me. And that throws me off a little. I am not used to feeling so… open. It frightens me that I am able to lose my bearings this way. I need time, I cannot go so fast with you."

Wheeler half nodded and let his hand slowly caress the length of her arm.

"That's cool, babe. I can back off a bit. No problem. I hear ya loud and clear. It's just… it's not exactly an easy thing for me to do because, well, it's _you_."

The emphasis Wheeler placed on the last word caused the blonde girl to smile, seemingly pleased. She bit her lower lip and blushed lightly, before standing up and placing some distance between them. Linka made for the kitchen door and turned to him with a bright a smile.

"Let us go see if those two have saved any dessert for us."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Reviews make me happy and giddy, tee hee! Thanks so much :)

* * *

Chapter 5

Wheeler had slept soundly; not even the less-than comfortable couch had bothered him too much. He'd been too full of good food and wine, not to mention love-sick, to not have a good night's sleep. He'd been made welcome to spend the night, and Linka had brought down a ridiculous number of comforters and blankets for him to sleep in. The American was one hell of a happy _mummy_ underneath the warmth of the covers, he'd chuckled to himself before drifting off to sleep.

The following morning, everyone was getting ready to go to church for a traditional Christmas-period mass. While Linka was preparing coffee, she reassured Wheeler that he did not have to feel obliged to join them if he did not feel like it. Her hair was braided neatly over her back, bouncing with each of her supple movements, and she was ever so pretty. The blonde girl seemed well-rested and content, but made no move to stand close to him. Wheeler could tell that she was busying herself in order to maintain her distance, and he tried his hardest to respect her desire for personal space. She had warned him the night before to slow things down, and he did not want to break his promise to her so early on.

"Babe, just because I don't go to church regularly doesn't mean I don't believe in God."

And so, Mishka let him have one of his more formal button-down shirts to wear over his dark jeans, since the religious service seemed to involve dressing up a bit. Wheeler thanked his lucky stars he had with him his clean, white sneakers, since Mishka's feet were considerably bigger than his.

The small group was almost ready to leave the house when the doorbell rang, and in loudly waltzed some people, whom Mishka explained were the neighbors. Apparently, it was a community affair, heading off together. Wheeler's heart sank when he spotted Alexei, who was standing off with an older man who was most likely his father, given the resemblance. The Russian boy lost no time seeking out Linka, taking her arms and kissing her cheeks with evident affection. Wheeler's fists tightened in fury, unable to stand the close physicality between the pair. It bothered him even more that Linka was smiling up at Alexei, Russian words tumbling out of her lovely mouth like water from a brook. He could not help but notice how elegant they both stood, naturally well-matched like a sandy beach and an ocean. It was no wonder the small town had linked them together.

Wheeler was about to go over and break up the happy scene because he could take no more of it. He wanted to give that jerk a piece of his mind! But just as he was about to move, Svetlana linked her arm through his and ushered him towards the door.

"Let us get going or we will be late," she merrily voiced, unaware of Wheeler's internal struggle. The redhead felt his legs moving to keep up, but his brain was as if invaded by bees, the loud buzz of his emotions numbing his mind. He turned his head in time to see Linka being escorted by both Alexei and his father, the three of them smiling and talking together.

Defeated, Wheeler realized that there was no way he could compete with their shared past, and no way to compete with the space-boy himself. He was tough competition. Alexei was in a different league, Linka's league, and Wheeler had never felt as forgotten as in that precise instant. Even though he was surrounded by a group of people, he felt alien and lonely, as if he'd never truly belong anywhere.

* * *

The church service could have been interesting if Wheeler hadn't been in such a foul mood. The massive building was filled with the sweet smell of incense, and paintings depicting various scenes from the Sacred Scriptures were everywhere on the walls and the cupola-type ceiling. The priest was speaking from the altar, and even though Wheeler could not understand one word, he heard the passion in the man's voice. The American's eyes moved to a statue of the Holy Virgin, her eyes prickled by tears as a sword pierced her heart. Wheeler could understand, in part, her anguish given the way he was feeling at the moment.

He was seated with Svetlana and Mishka, while Linka had ended up two rows ahead of them, with Alexei by her side. Wheeler tried his hardest to keep his eyes _anywhere_ but on them, but this was an impossible mission. He'd reduced the hymn-bulletin in his hands to a tight paper ball, and Svetlana had raised one thin eyebrow up at him questioningly. It wasn't his fault. He could not believe the number of times Alexei would lean in close to Linka and whisper something to her. What the hell was he saying to her that was so urgent it couldn't wait until _after_ church? If he didn't know any better, Wheeler would think the Russian boy was doing it to simply aggravate him. It was working perfectly. And when the congregation stood up to chant some monotone response, Alexei had the nerve to place his hand on the small of Linka's back, as if to claim her.

Wheeler tore up the sheets in his hands and made to move past the standing bodies. He heard Svetlana hissing at him to return to his place, visibly trying to figure out what the hell he was doing in the middle of a church service, but he did not care. He'd had enough. More than enough.

Outside, the cold Siberian winds made his eyes water, but he welcomed the change from the stuffy oxygen being exchanged in the church. Linka obviously wasn't thinking about him one bit, did not care to check up on him at all. She was probably enjoying being close to that damn space-boy.

Wheeler descended the stairs quickly, needing some distance from the scene. Maybe it was destiny that he witness Linka's life and what it would be like without him, how perfectly each puzzle piece joined in the quiet ordinariness that was her life. With her loving family, with Alexei. There was no room for the Fire Planeteer. It was like that damn Christmas Carol story, with the ghost figure showing you how crappy you were as a person and how better off everyone was without you. Oh, yes, perfect warm and fuzzy Christmas feelings, to go along with his other horrific memories of the holiday.

Wheeler shoved his hands in his pockets and moved along, knowing he desperately needed to find a bar to drown some of the misery he was experiencing. He'd come so close to tasting real happiness last night, that finding out it was all an illusion in the end left a bitter taste in his mouth. The taste of defeat, of loneliness, of unworthiness. No matter how much he hated alcohol and what it had done to his family, its taste was much more bearable than all that. Anything to forget, to ease the pain, to erase Linka's sweet smile from his mind. She had never been his, nor would she ever be. It was time he learned to accept that as truth.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Linka shot a look at the antique wall clock, not for the first time. It was getting to be late afternoon, and the sun had long gone down. Mishka and Svetlana had gone out to visit Grandmushka at the hospital, and as much as Linka had wanted to join them, she found she just couldn't. She was worried about Wheeler. No one had seen him since church, and when she'd tried calling his cell phone, a ring from the sitting room let her know he had forgotten his phone at her house.

She was even more concerned when she'd learned from Svetlana that he had been restless at church, mainly because Alexei had monopolized her the entire time. Even Svetlana had noticed that Wheeler seemed to be overly protective of her when it came to other guys, indicating that he saw her as way more than just a friend. Linka sighed, knowing full well what the Russian girl was implying. And given the intimate moments she had shared with Wheeler the night before, Linka felt even more terrible about the whole misunderstanding. Because that's what it was in the end. She was _not_ interested in Alexei that way; flattered, sure, but she wasn't attracted to him like she was to the Yankee. Linka had somehow found herself being sat beside Alexei at church, and she did not want to be rude to him or his father and move away. Her intent had really been to sit by Wheeler and help him understand what was going on in the intricate celebration of mass so he would not get too bored.

So she figured that staying at home in case he decided to come back was the best option. Plus, Mishka had offered to look around for him in his car on the way back from the hospital. They lived in a small town after all, and the American couldn't hide out forever.

Linka plopped down on the couch, bending one leg underneath her. She raised her arm to examine her silver bracelet, and lightly caressed the bird charm Wheeler had given her. No doubt, he could confuse her like no other. He'd been so sweet and thoughtful the night before, and she'd felt something like love radiating off him as he held her in his arms. She could get so lost in him, in the way he kissed her, that she'd had trouble falling asleep. It was so right with the American when things went smoothly. Perfect, so passionate, like in old love films. But the intensity of it scared her. For example, like now, when she didn't know where he was and he didn't bother to check in with her. How could he not know she would worry? Was he trying to punish her for the perceived humiliation he'd received? Worse yet, was he trying to punish himself?

Linka sighed, wishing that Wheeler were not so intense about things. She knew that his jealousy was largely fueled by his insecurity, but he still needed to try and control his feelings. _Would it work between them?_ , Linka asked herself, for the millionth time since meeting him. She was rational and cool, he was hot-tempered and emotional. She'd witnessed his anger on missions, the way he isolated himself from others after his outbursts. Almost as if he didn't entirely trust himself. Linka knew he was incapable of ever hurting anyone, and she found it hard to believe that he did not give himself the same credit. Wheeler had so much goodness to him, and that was what really drew her to him. He was selfless when helping out, often exhausting himself physically in order to do more. She truly believed that if someone were to help him channel all his energy in the right direction, Wheeler could do great things.

The loud knock at the door startled her and she jumped, hitting her knee on the coffee table in the process. All the same, Linka scrambled to the door and pulled it open, glad for the distraction and hoping with all her heart that it was the redheaded Yankee.

Her prayers were answered. On the other side was Wheeler, standing there awkwardly, breaking eye contact just as soon as making it.

"Where in hell have you been?" Linka nearly screamed, and she could tell he was surprised by her rough mannerism. She seldom swore or used vulgar terms.

She moved aside to let him in and he did so robotically, as if moving took too much effort.

"I just came to… get my phone," Wheeler answered, looking around the room as if to indicate his point. "I'm leavin'."

Linka noted he wasn't standing so straight, his shoulders were slouched, and his cheeks were bright pink in the pale complexion of his face. His eyes were as if glazed over, and she watched him nearly stumble as he went to retrieve his phone from the table beside the couch.

"What is going on, Wheeler? You just left without saying anything, we have been worried!"

He gave a bitter laugh and the cold sound echoed in the empty room. "Figured you wouldn't miss me much."

Linka took his arm and examined him closely. Something was off with him.

" _Bozhe moi_ , you have been drinking!"

Wheeler pulled his arm from her grasp none too gently and made for the door.

"What I do is none of your business, Linka."

The blonde stood wordless as if he'd slapped her, for he'd never used such a heartless tone with her before. Slowly, she shook her head to regain control and followed him before he could disappear again. She barricaded the door with her body and crossed her arms over her chest. Linka was not very amused by his antics and it was time he knew about it. She neared him, and surely the sweet smell of alcohol was about him like a nebulous cloud. A little surge of anger swept through her, and she suddenly wanted to throw his "secret" back at him, to confront him.

"So you _have_ been drinking! You smell of vodka. And of something like… Jack Daniels!"

A crooked smile formed on Wheeler's face, but it wasn't a happy one. "Yeah, imagine that. Something from the heart of America, and something from beautiful, cold Russia. A deadly mixture. Something that is not meant to be together at all. In fact, I feel sick from it."

Linka nearly gasped at his words once she realized he was alluding to more. He was talking about _them_. All these years, she had never believed that he could be the one to lose hope in the future of their strange relationship. As much as she had wavered, Wheeler had always hung on, desperate to make her see they were meant to be together. His reasoning now made her shiver. What he was saying could _not_ be true, she felt it in her heart. Surely, it was the alcohol talking, and his anger relating to how the day had progressed.

"Wheeler, listen to me," Linka sighed, her voice becoming more gentle as she met his eyes. "You should go lie down for a bit, rest, and once you feel better, we will talk about everything. Then, if you still feel like leaving, I will not stop you, I promise."

Wheeler snorted a little to himself and shifted his weight to his other foot.

"Ya know, said like that, it almost sounds like you care."

"I _do_ care! Ugh, I cannot reason with you when you are like this."

Wheeler's fists tightened by his sides and Linka saw his jaw clenching. Nothing she was saying seemed to get through to him.

"I bet your precious _Alexei_ has never humiliated himself in front of you like this! He's too damn perfect for that! Perfect upbringing, perfect manners, perfect grades, perfect career, perfect life! I'm really not that surprised you chose him over me, anyway."

Linka threw her hands up to the sky in frustration. She hated Wheeler's pity parties, he was so good at talking himself down, way down in the dumps. _He really ought to respect himself more than that_ , reflected the blonde girl, sadly.

"I did _not_ choose him over you, Wheeler. I am sorry you got that impression from me standing next to him at church."

"You looked _so_ cozy together, the two of you, anyone would have mistaken you for a couple," Wheeler retorted stubbornly. Then, he raised his voice to add, "You know what? I don't freakin' care anymore! Do whatever you want. Marry him! Everyone expects you to! Another perfect addition to his perfect life!"

"That is enough now, Wheeler!" Linka exploded, wanting to knock some sense into him by this point. "Now, go rest or take a shower or do whatever you have to do, but come back as your _normal_ self."

Another bitter laugh, as Wheeler's eyes became more and more lifeless. "This is part of who I am, babe. It's in my blood. Take it or leave it."

"All these years, I have never known you to be like this," Linka reasoned, shaking her head firmly. "You are better than this and you know it."

Wheeler absorbed her words, mulling them over for a second, before tears formed in his eyes. Blinking them back urgently, he swiftly reached behind her for the door handle, intending to leave in his disastrous state of mind.

"Move out of my way, Linka."

" _Nyet_ , you are not going anywhere!"

"I said _move_! I mean it."

Linka swatted at his hands and gave him a firm, reproachful glance. "And I said _nyet_!"

Something changed in his eyes, it was barely perceptive, but a shiver ran down Linka's back all the same. Not used to feeling this way around him, the beautiful blonde completely stilled before his fury.

" _Goddamn it_ , let me outta here!"

Wheeler's hands moved to grip both her arms roughly, and he shoved her out of the way. The cold wind coming from the opened door almost had no impact on the Russian girl, for she felt already frozen. Her mouth was set in a shocked circle, and her thoughts became foggy once the pain from his contact registered. Linka felt like she was watching the scene from a television screen; she could believe none of it was happening for real.

It was even more excruciating to witness the realization of what he'd done dawn on Wheeler's face. His lower lip began to tremble and his face became snow white. His hands lay limp at his sides; he seemed a tried rag doll, ready to shatter into a million pieces.

"I'm sorry, babe, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to… I would never… Linka… I'm so sorry," the words were coming out of his mouth fast like a waterfall, some dying on his lips, and Linka nodded a little, not finding words of her own. Her mouth felt dry like sandpaper, and she ran her tongue over her lips, willing her heart to stop racing.

"We should both calm down," Linka voiced above a whisper, placing a tentative hand on Wheeler's arm, as if coaxing a tiger back into its cage. Her touch had the opposite effect on the distraught redhead, and he immediately moved away as if she'd burned him.

"I can't… babe, please. It's best if I go… I just can't," Wheeler was babbling, clearly horrified with himself. He was making sure to keep his distance from her, ducking out of the warm house as if it were on fire.

"Jacob, _nyet_ , come back!" Linka begged, feeling tears brimming her eyelashes. Still, she tried reasoning with him. "Nothing happened, everything is fine. I understand you are frustrated right now, I know you would never hurt me. Do not leave this way!"

The American was shaking his head violently at her words, before briefly meeting her eyes. There was pure heartbreak reflected in their blue depths. And intense hatred for himself. He started running away so fast Linka could do nothing but stand in the doorway and watch him go, tears blurring her vision, until he was completely out of sight.

* * *

 **A/N:** No matter what the characters in my story may think or say, _violence is_ _ **NEVER**_ _okay_. In any way, shape, or form. Violence is NEVER minimal, justifiable, accidental. Just wanted to clarify.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

At least Wheeler had gotten back to Hope Island all in one piece, according to Gi, anyway. Linka had not told her best friend anything about the way she and Wheeler had parted. Mainly because days after the incident, she herself still had trouble classifying it, understanding it, believing it. The American would answer none of her calls, and Gi had disclosed that Wheeler was making himself scarce on the Island, mainly inhabiting his hut and steering clear of them. Linka had lied to the Asian girl, stating that Wheeler had been coming down with something before leaving Russia, so could she please make sure he was eating? Linka had been trying to book a flight somewhere closer to the Island so that one of the other Planeteers could pick her up, but the imminent New Year festivities made it impossible to find anything remotely reasonable.

But on the second day of the first month of the new year, the Russian girl was sick with worry over Wheeler and begged Gi to come pick her up. She had taken some middle-of-the-night flight that had not been a popular choice with the other _sane_ passengers, but Linka felt relieved, all the same. Mishka and Svetlana were surprised at her decision to leave in the middle of Russia's festivities, as well as Grandmushka's recovery, but Linka reassured them she would soon return. She simply needed to check up on Wheeler and set things straight with the American. Knowing him like she did, she was certain he was torturing himself with thoughts of how "no good" he was. He was probably punishing himself more harshly than he deserved. Linka knew it had been a slip on his part, he'd let his guard down, and he'd involuntarily pushed her out of the way with more force than he'd intended. Wheeler wasn't a violent person, had never been with any of them, for any reason.

Linka questioned the deep longing in her heart to see him and help him piece everything together, no longer sure it wasn't love she nurtured. She had been a fool to let Wheeler down like that, for having kept him at arm's length when all she truly wanted was to squeeze him in her arms and be near him. It hadn't been her intent for him to think that she didn't cherish him; worse yet, that Alexei had won her heart instead of him.

As she ran to the Fire Planeteer's cabin as soon as the Eco Copter touched ground, Linka realized that she would have to knock some serious sense into him! First, for believing such nonsense in the first place, and second, for letting her worry about their relationship, or if any harm had come to it. Something that was budding with such tenderness between them needed to be shielded from the elements, not be exposed to such unyielding storms. Thus, the Yankee deserved what was coming to him!

Linka loudly rapped on his door, her heartbeat echoing off the walls of her chest cavity. It was sunset on Hope Island, and slight shadows were cast on the luscious greenery surrounding her. In the Copter, she had stripped down to a T-shirt and some loose-fitting cotton pants that now caressed her legs as she walked. Russia's winter attire wouldn't do out here at all. She ran a hand through her hair to release it from the flimsy hair band that held it tied, feeling ridiculous all the while. She reminded herself that she had come all this way simply to check up on the Yankee and talk, _not_ declare her growing love for him. _That_ she could keep hidden a while longer, she smiled a little to herself.

The blonde girl knocked again, impatient, and Wheeler's voice suddenly broke through the silence.

"Gi, I don't want any more of your soup! _God!_ I'm fine, just let me be!"

Linka laughed to herself at the irritation in his voice. She was glad that Gi had been pestering him. It served him right for walking out on her like that!

The Russian girl immediately pushed his door open, knowing that he never locked it, and stood in the dim light of his hut. It was more or less the usual war zone in there, clothes thrown about and wires from the Playstation and his laptop crisscrossing in dangerous patterns on the floor, newspapers thrown about here and there, water and soda containers overfilling the small recycling bins, but the rest seemed all right. At least the bed was made neatly and clean clothes were folded on a nearby chair.

Linka advanced on, heading for the chair closest to the bed. Wheeler was laying down, one arm thrown over his face as if to block out the light. A well-defined naked torso was on display, but at least he was wearing jeans. He gave no indication that he'd heard someone coming in, or maybe he simply did not care.

Linka crossed one leg over the other after sitting down, and turned to Wheeler patiently, wondering what kind of thoughts she'd be interrupting by speaking. Most likely not happy ones, she figured with a small sigh.

"You know, it is common courtesy in the civilized world to return phone calls," she voiced matter-of-fact in the stillness of the room, and Wheeler nearly fell off the bed he sat up so quickly.

His bewildered expression, along with his unruly hair sticking up here and there, would have made for a funny sight had it not been for the weariness in his eyes.

"How… how are you here?" Wheeler could only think to voice, seemingly trying to ascertain that the blonde was not just a figment of his imagination.

"In the year 1903, the Wright brothers invented a little something called the airplane," Linka replied with a smug smile.

Wheeler groaned and fell back down against the pillows, shielding his eyes once more. Linka moved so that she could take place beside him on the bed, leaning her back against his bent leg as she sat down. She raised one hand and gently tugged at his arm, the one covering his face. His attempt to hide let her know it was difficult for him to face her, but they had to get through this one way or another.

"You are not happy to see me?" Linka asked quietly, purposefully meeting his eyes.

Wheeler examined her for a moment before shifting his glance with a small sigh. He nodded wordlessly, but made no move otherwise.

Linka placed her hands neatly in her lap, choosing her words with care before speaking again.

"Jacob, I am sorry that you left feeling so upset. It has been killing me and… that is why I tried getting here as soon as I could. I never wanted you to believe that I do not care about you or that I could toy with your emotions in any way. You know it is difficult for me to try and explain how I am feeling."

She watched for any emotion to play on his face other than utter disbelief, but none other came.

"You're… _apologizing_. To _me_. After what _I_ did? God, I didn't think I could feel any worse, but here it comes."

"You need to let that go, it was an accident," Linka immediately remarked, moving her head in order to meet his eyes. More than ever, she wished she had the power of hypnosis in order to plant that idea firmly in his mind.

"Look, I don't wanna talk about this now," Wheeler stated, clamming up as per usual around his most feared topics. His arm went over his eyes again, heavily, as if he wanted to blot out what was being discussed.

Linka sighed. It was like trying to feed bitter medicine to a child.

"Well, too bad, because we _are_ talking about it, Yankee," she insisted, tugging on his arm. It wouldn't budge. He was going to make this difficult for her, then.

Linka swore under her breath in Russian, and moved her body so that she could sit on his stomach, one leg on either side of him, effectively straddling him. She took hold of both his arms and pinned them over his head, trapping him underneath her weight. Finally eye level with him, they remained in silence just observing one another.

It was Wheeler who turned his glance away for a quarter of a second, before newly scrutinizing her.

"Why do you bother with me?" his voice came from a place of deep internal turmoil, and Linka's expression softened. She tried to make a joke to lighten the situation.

"I ask myself the exact same question every day, Yankee."

Her words did not have the expected result, for he did not even crack a smile.

"You don't seem to realize that I could have hurt you."

"But you did not," Linka reassured him, and immediately he attempted to break free from her grasp.

"But I _tried to_! Linka, that should scare you, all right? _A lot_. It sure as hell scares _me_. It's messed up!"

"It was a moment of weakness, Wheeler. You were angry and I was in your way. Not to mention the alcohol that was clouding your judgment. I would not be here right now if I did not believe in your ability to keep me safe. Why are you so hard on yourself?"

"Because it's who I am!" Wheeler remarked with a conviction that alarmed her. " _He_ was like this, ok? And I'm his son! I watched him do the exact same thing to my mom my whole life. You wouldn't know, you don't understand!"

Wheeler was nearly shaking with the strength of his confession, his body vibrating underneath hers. The words he'd shared were not things he easily discussed with others, and for him, it took something like superhuman effort to get them out.

Linka slowly released one of his wrists to run her fingers gently over the faint stubble on his jaw.

"Jacob, you are _not_ your father. Nor could you ever be. The Jacob I know is loving, and selfless, and looks after others. He is humble when he wants to be, and is unable to say no to anybody, always ready to please. Children and old people adore him, and I have _never_ seen anybody ever be afraid of him."

A brief pause before Wheeler spoke up. His voice was above a whisper now that he'd purged his fears from his system.

" _You_ were afraid, that night."

Linka readily shook her head. " _Nyet_ , it was more like shock. You never let yourself be that upset in front of others. And actually, I was afraid _for_ you, because I knew of how you would react afterwards. You are exceptionally good at punishing yourself."

She watched him mulling over her words, concentrating. There was so much going on in his brain he had not even made a sassy comment on their compromising position, her being on top of him and everything. That was how Linka knew he was _really_ upset about what had transpired between them.

"No matter what happens, even if it's too late now to take back what I did, I am _never_ drinking ever again," Wheeler firmly stated, pouting his lower lip a little.

"I think that might be a good idea, at least for the time being," nodded Linka with a small smile.

"You're taking this way too lightly," Wheeler piped up from underneath her, annoyed. He seemed very worried about this.

Linka rolled her eyes skywards, praying for patience. "What do you want me to do, lecture you?"

"I don't know," sighed Wheeler, closing his eyes momentarily. "It's just… I don't know how to get over this. To think I could have hurt you more than I already have…"

"We will get over it," Linka reassured him, affection pouring out of her voice. She did not know how to stop its syrupy momentum.

"Babe, you're so sure, so trusting," Wheeler sighed, as if that were a bad thing. "I don't know if I deserve that. I've been thinking a lot these past couple of days. Why should someone as bright and promising as you be stuck with someone like me? I would just drag you down, or worse. You and Alexei, that makes so much more sense than you and I ever could."

"So now, like that, you wish for me to be with ' _space-bo_ y' instead?" Linka was incredulous, mouth gaping. What in the name of all that was sacred was going on? It felt like she had just stepped into some twisted, time-warped dimension.

Wheeler sighed, delicately playing with the loose strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face.

"God, babe, you don't know how much that _kills_ me, to admit that he's the better choice for you, the better man. It's like a sharp piece of glass cutting into my heart, splitting it into two halves. But you deserve the best, and I can't be that selfish. It nearly got you hurt, and I could never live with myself if something like that were to happen again."

"You are giving up, then," Linka concluded, the words heavy and bitter in her mouth. She leaned back, frowning; she was incredibly disappointed at how this had played out. Her Yankee, the one who had always taken on the entire world when it came to her, no longer felt like fighting! Had she lost her importance to him? She could not think of anything more depressing than that.

The Russian girl made to move, intending to stand, needing to think, to give her aching heart some breathing room before she completely lost control. But Wheeler stopped her movements before she was fully off the bed.

"Don't go," the American said with a pleading note, gently pulling her underneath him now. Linka let him, without speaking, then blinked up at him through his careful examination of her face. His fingers took to tracing the outline of her jaw, lips and nose. His touch was restoring. Little familiar butterflies formed in Linka's stomach at the way he was appraising her, like something of great value. God, she'd missed this, being close to him, savoring his warmth. Wheeler knew how to make her weak, how to erode her mountains of pride. And for the first time, Linka realized she trusted him with all of that.

"Babe, I love you," Wheeler disclosed suddenly, his eyes dwelling into hers. "So much. You're the only thing that matters, the only thing that's real. And if I were any good I'd stay away from you. But I'm not, and I don't know how to be without you. So, you gotta help me better myself, all right? I want to become worthy of you, and most importantly, I don't ever, _ever_ wanna hurt you again."

Linka ran a trembling hand through his red hair, blinking at the emotion in his clear blue eyes. They were so deep and rich, she felt drunk off his tender glance. His words alone made her feel warm all over, breathless. The battle he was fighting within himself was agonizing to witness, and she wanted to help him through it. Wheeler did not yet recognize that he already was worthy of her, that his love was the most genuine thing she'd ever felt in her life. Linka did not want to lose any of that; her heart told her this was unfailingly _right_.

The Russian girl nodded at his urging request, then gave him a small reassuring smile. She locked her arms around his neck and brought him closer. "The first lesson is learning to forgive yourself."

Again, Linka felt like diamonds under his scrutiny, as if she were of infinite worth to him. She could tell that her words meant a lot to him, that her kindness was something like a huge gift to Wheeler. And she was so glad that he trusted her enough to open up to her, admit his weaknesses, and be brave enough to attempt fixing anything that wasn't quite right. This was her proof that she had made the right decision, chosen the right man to stand beside her. There had never been a shadow of a doubt in her mind, anyway.

Linka felt her heart beat strong and regular in her chest and all she could do was offer Wheeler her lips, hungry for his contact. A vortex of passion grew steadily from their intimate contact, and all that was left to do was hold on, give in to it fully. For the first time, there was nothing but love between them.

They made love unhurriedly, unlocking their souls for one another, whispering eternal promises of love. Again and again, each time more sweet than the last, as if the heavens had conceded them only one night to be together. And as Linka lay in his arms afterwards, lulled by the promise of sleep and Wheeler's warm caresses on her bare back, she knew this deep devotion that tied them would accompany them for the rest of their lives. It was a safe bet, much like the sunrise each single, magical day.

* * *

A/N: So I had originally planned for this chapter to be the last, but then I thought we should get some closure from Wheeler's point of view, as well. Let's be honest, I (like the rest of you!) can't get enough Wheeler/Linka interaction! They are so _lovable_ together (lol, thanks Nina!)! Stay tuned for the next chapter :)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The light that was making its way through the thin curtain was faint, lazy. Wheeler blinked his eyes open and yawned, rubbing his face on the pillow as his brain gradually made sense of things, created order. The warmth of Linka's bare back against his bare chest slowly registered, and he shifted with care to examine the blonde's face, which was turned from his in sleep.

She was an angel. Wheeler's heart started beating crazily, until he could hear it echo in the silent bedroom. Linka's golden hair was on his pillows like a halo about her, and her cherub lips were slightly parted as she slept on undisturbed. The delicate curve of her shoulder hid the perfection that was the rest of her naked body, and Wheeler settled down next to her again, holding her tighter against him. This was everything that he'd ever dreamed of, and he was suddenly afraid that it would disappear once he fully woke up.

The American laid there, happier than he could ever recall being, just listening to Linka breathing. He did not even want to get up to use the toilet, but, alas, he could not go against his physiology forever. Defeated at last, he sighed, cursing his need to pee. He did not feel like leaving Linka's side for even one second!

Getting up from the bed swiftly but quietly, Wheeler moved towards the bathroom, finally conceding his bladder a break before nearing the sink and splashing some cold water on his face. Everything seemed so dreamlike, he needed to somehow make sure it was not make-believe! He glanced at his reflection one last time in the mirror, taking note for the first time that he was stark naked, before hurrying back to Linka's warmth.

He lost no time enveloping her in his arms, pulling the covers over them both, before he felt Linka slightly stirring in his arms. He remained unmoving, holding his breath, as the beautiful Russian girl turned her body around, so that her head was resting on his chest and she was curled into him. She let out a pleased sigh once she had settled to her liking, and Wheeler rested his cheek against her head, playing lightly with her hair. It was not long before he felt the flutter of her long eyelashes against his neck, letting him know she was awake.

Wheeler kissed her forehead and caressed her bare shoulders, her skin silky underneath his fingertips. He was filled with glee when Linka leaned more into him, shielding her face from the subtle light in the process.

"Is it morning already?" came the sleepy question from the object of his desire, and Wheeler held back a laugh.

"Yeah," he nodded in response, as his hand found its way down her spine. "But we don't have to go anywhere, babe."

Linka smiled against his neck and gradually lifted her head to meet his eyes. Hers were deep emerald, more alluring than ever, and Wheeler felt lost in them.

"Didn't you get enough sleep last night?" he could not help but tease, and she giggled with gusto in response.

"You know, Yankee, if you are going to be a smartass, you might as well get up and get us breakfast."

"Five more minutes!" Wheeler wailed like a child, pulling her closer to him like a shield, and Linka softly laughed at his antics.

"Every morning the same line! _Bozhe moi_!"

"Except that today is special," grinned Wheeler pleased, and Linka pulled herself up on one elbow to examine him.

"How is it special?"

"I get to wake up next to a goddess."

Linka did not even have the time to roll her eyes at him dismissively before Wheeler had her pinned down underneath him.

"Come on, you gotta admit, I'm pretty smooth," Wheeler laughed a little, before covering her neck with kisses.

"Uhmm," the blonde girl replied as she circled her arms around his shoulders. "Based on the evidence collected last night, I may actually have to let you win that argument."

The redhead laughed again and lifted his eyes to hers. His heart felt full and warm, like a kettle ready to burst, and he lost no time kissing Linka's mouth at length. She would never taste any less addicting to him, and when he eventually pulled away from her, it was not without effort.

"So… no regrets?" Even though Wheeler had tried to inject a light tone to his voice, every one of his worries filtered through all the same.

"None. Why do you think I would have any?"

"Well… maybe… I was upset, and you were trying to cheer me up…"

Linka held him at arm's length so she could examine him, and her eyes became more serious. "If I want to cheer someone up, I usually tell a joke."

Wheeler shook his head, cursing his paranoid reasoning. That, and his inability to properly communicate. Would he ever be able to _not_ fumble his explanations to her?

"You know that's not what I meant, babe," sighed the redhead, mentally ordering his thoughts. "Just ignore the dumb things I say, please! I guess… this all feels like it's too good to be true. A _dream_. I'm still adjusting to it."

He watched her eyes soften with his words and the emotion behind them. Linka reached up to place a little tender kiss on his mouth.

"Would it help make it more real for you if I told you I loved you?"

Linka's question caused Wheeler to freeze, words eluding him more than ever by this point. There was no air, nothing outside the shining truth in her lovely eyes.

"Because I do, you know," smiled Linka a little shyly, letting one hand run delicately through his red hair. "I love you, Jacob. I have been foolish trying to hide it from you."

Wheeler's heart was banging joyfully against his chest at her heartfelt words, and he smiled widely in response. "It's not feeling any less like a dream, babe. Better pinch me, just in case."

Linka laughed and he held her to him, never intending to let go.

"Thank you, babe. For having faith me," Wheeler disclosed, his tone quieter and more serious. He was ever so grateful, and Linka gave him a special little smile in turn.

"Well, you had faith in _us_ before I could ever even see it coming. So, I would say that it is a team effort in the end," conceded the fantastic blonde.

Wheeler felt light, at peace, and he continued holding her in his arms. They made one hell of a team, he and Linka. Fire and Wind. Not even his devastating behavior had been able to tear apart their love, and he was ever so glad for second chances. He would never again treat Linka the way he had; this he promised himself. From now on, all she was going to get from him was endless devotion, pure love. Linka had more than earned it, and she fully deserved it.

"Just so you know, my darling, beautiful babe, it's highly unlikely that I'll let you leave this bed today," grinned the redhead, placing a kiss on her shoulder. Linka's rosy lips curved in a smile and he kissed them next.

"Mmm, I may let you get away with that, Yankee," Linka replied, her playful tone reflecting his happiness, as she batted her eyelashes up at him. "Apparently, kissing is not the only thing you are good at."

Wheeler laughed a little and kissed her again, this time more deeply. Her mouth was dizzyingly delicious, and he rejoiced when Linka enveloped him in her arms, ready to show him her affection. Her body was warm and inviting, letting him know they were finally free to love one another. For the first time, no barriers stood between them. There was no doubt in Wheeler's mind that this was going to be the best day _ever_.

THE END


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